


Ionic Fusion

by Accuni



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Prompt Fic, going through my list of SFW ideas, prompt and continuity labeled on each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-09-02 01:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accuni/pseuds/Accuni
Summary: Collection of Megatron/Optimus oneshots, exploring continuities and ideas.





	1. G1

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to warm back up to writing after being super busy this summer, so I had the idea to create little lists of ideas for myself to work on writing more brief things, and also branching out and exploring more continuities I love for MegOp, without having to create something huge like I'm always tempted to ;; stuff will likely be less polished but I also want to work on speed with my writing as well

**G1 / truce, touches, holding hands**

It started during one of those long, long nights where the pile of paperwork and fine details seemed to just keep piling up instead of getting smaller. Too many small details to consistently factor in… Keeping the war at bay was likely more work than just ending it at this point, yet Megatron still grumbled at the thought of being the first to end it. He’d trudge through the desk work if it meant a moderately stable societal structure before he’d concede.

He tapped idly at the datapad on the conference table he recently shared with the Prime, reading and re-reading over the same subsection of text, trying to fit all the pieces together so maybe the state of their world would make sense. It was frustrating, and Megatron never hid his emotions toward the work, like the faint scowl currently gracing his face. 

Optimus sat in silence, busily typing up a new paragraph to add on to the section of temporary legislation he was editing. If the Prime ever got tired of this work, he didn’t show it, which made Megatron all the more frustrated.

After a moment of typing, Optimus tilted his helm towards his desk partner. “We can stop for the night if it’s not going well. It doesn’t have to get done just yet.” his voice was calm.

Megatron grumbled again. “It just doesn’t make any sense! How do you expect us to combine both forms of command structure and have everything run smoothly? You know the Decepticons are generously stubborn to anyone doing their job-” 

“It’s going to work. If not now, then eventually.” Optimus said sternly, yet his optics were gentle. “We’ve already achieved so much, we can make it work. Because we’re doing it together.”

Megatron scoffed. That was bordering on emotional territory he wasn’t yet ready to cross into. This _ agreement _ was already too confusing as it was. “They don’t _ know _ that… They think this recess is as unstable as it seems, that we probably don’t even confide in each other. You know it’s not easy to build the trust of another faction while also maintaining the credibility of your own.”

Optimus nodded in agreement, making a thoughtful noise, but otherwise didn’t push the topic. He was well aware of the intricacies of this kind of stall in the war. Except it wasn’t exactly a, because they’d been working on having each side function as integral parts, hopeful for it to _ stay _ like that.

Moments passed as they eased back into a comfortable silence, back into their work. Megatron wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he didn’t get much farther at all in his planning than before, and was startled when a firm hand planted itself across his back.

Optimus leaned over his shoulder, close. “Let’s just go refuel, it’s no use continuing once you keep hitting a wall.” The hand on his back was warm, patting the plates gently. Megatron was exhausted, wanted to relax into the comfort, but his irrational processor was screaming that this very _ close _ and _ improper_. He didn’t have time to fight himself, as the hand was gone as quickly as it appeared when Optimus leaned back out of his space to walk off into the other room. 

They had...had an _ agreement, _ but otherwise never touched beyond that. Megatron was left stunned, flushed for a moment before he remembered who he was.

* * *

A stable Cybertron required time, and time seemed to drag along as slow as ever, but eventually progress was becoming noticeable. Their combined command crew meetings began to be less of a contest for control and more so actually moving towards tackling problems.

Megatron still spent those long nights in the office with the Prime, and more frequently spending time refueling with him too. Refueling often led to them ending the night discussing non-work related topics, like old literature- which Megatron was pleasantly surprised to find Optimus had an extensive knowledge in. It was one of their middle-grounds that eased those silent moments along, and was as relaxing as it was rewarding, yet Megatron’s plating rippled each time they brushed shoulders or spoke too close. The Prime hadn’t moved past a small pat on the back while walking to a meeting, or a lingering hand on his arm during reports. Megatron wasn’t sure why he expected Optimus to go further, or why he found himself _ wanting _ him to. This was the last problem Megatron expected to find while working together, and he found that didn’t have the violent urge to rip apart plating out of frustration or just the thought of another mech touching him in a friendly way. It was all just… just confusion.

Another round of arduous tasks on their list of never-ending duties prompted another long cycle of work. At some point during one of those taxing nights, Megatron found himself increasingly unfocused, optics bleary, the datapad no longer making sense as he typed his last train of thought. He’d hardly noticed he was drifting into recharge when a presence at his side startled him, almost setting off battle protocols before it reconfigured into a familiar coding. Blue hands were gently touching his arm, pushing a cube into his own. He drowsily took the cube in a weak grip, and fingers slid across his, making sure they were secure as Megatron took the fuel.

The hand on his arm did not move as he drained the fuel, and Megatron found himself flushing again as he slowly came to his senses, hyper aware of the touches, the hand minutely stroking his plating. It wasn’t pity, and he wasn’t mad, but Megatron hated that he felt _ incredibly _embarrassed.

“Thank you…” he mumbled, breaking the Prime’s stare. He knew Optimus held one of those soft expressions under his mask that were quite rare.

“There’s no rush to get this done. You don’t need to overwork yourself, it’ll only make things worse.” Optimus said. And Megatron wasn’t sure as to what exactly the Prime was actually referring to.

* * *

Megatron was ashamed to admit that he thought much too frequently about the next time Optimus would be close to him, anticipating how far he’d go next. But the weeks dragged on and nothing had changed. In fact, close proximity to the Prime began to frustrate him, stubborn mech that he was. While they still worked together out of necessity and routine, Megatron still felt twitchy each time they got close, even in the off-hours they spent together.

It wasn’t until a particularly rowdy meeting that his resolve crumbled a bit more.

Things had been going smoothly until Jazz, or was it Prowl- Megatron didn’t remember, they seemed to work in tandem these days, that, while on the topic of public fuel distribution, had offered up the idea of some area-controlled energon dispensaries. Starscream immediately jumped on the notion that _ of course that wouldn’t work! Autobots and Decepticons still live separately on their own, it’s completely unfair to set boundaries- _ and the rest of the room gradually chimed in, creating an awful uproar.

Whenever meetings devolved to that of their current state, Optimus resigned to rubbing his optics, helm in hand, knowing the chaos would sort itself out eventually, albeit an exasperating experience. Megatron, however, got rapidly agitated with the bickering, often having to storm out to avoid resolving his frustration by violent means. With this round of quarreling, he was quickly reaching that same point, visibly upset and fidgeting with his datapad for any last hope to distract himself, not to mention the last week of work taking its toll on his overall energy and not helping the situation one bit.

Half a cycle in and he felt the Prime watching him as he mindlessly tapped through files, trying so hard to ignore Prowl and Starscream nearly at each other’s throats. He was just about to go his usual route of vacating the room when he was stopped by a hand on his chair. Megatron had caught Optimus’ weary optics, knowing exactly what was being asked of him. He couldn't bring himself to start a whole new issue by challenging the Prime, so instead of escaping, he’d yielded with an exhausted sigh, slumping back in his chair, gripping the arms of it to reduce his rapidly rising urge to break something in half.

After another moment of trying to ignore the scene, Megatron felt an almost imperceptible warm touch over the hand that was grasping the metal of the chair, slowly moving to cover his, squeezing his knuckles.

_ [It’s fine. Let them work it out.] _ was commed over private frequency.

Megatron felt his attention immediately snap from the scene in front of him to the single point of their frames meeting, feeling his plating heat. He looked down, optics absolutely burning, but the agitation quickly bleeding out of his processor.

Optimus did not look at him out of subtlety, but squeezed their hands again, daring to shift his fingers. Megatron allowed it, couldn’t even think of stopping him when those fingers slid between his, not quite intertwining yet, but keeping a firm grip. He didn’t meet the Prime’s gaze but once, and was too terrified of revealing any of his own inane expressions to hold it. Beyond his inner turmoil, Megatron couldn’t lie and say this wasn’t..._ helping_, or that he didn’t _ appreciate _it. The thought crossed his muddled processor that maybe this meeting wouldn’t end in complete chaos after all.

* * *

Prime wasn’t as bold again so soon. The entire situation, albeit a blip in their daily lives, seemed to hang in the air whenever they were together...at least for Megatron. Not a word was spoken about it, but certain moments in closeness warranted knowing glances every now and then. Megatron wished he knew what the Prime was thinking, what he wanted to _ do_, but found it too hard to articulate exactly _ what _ he wanted to ask. _ This was ridiculous… _

It didn’t, however, impede progress at all. If anything, the dreaded meetings were able to return to task when Megatron wasn’t tempted to end them each time they got out of hand, even if out of sheer wonder that _ it _ would happen again. And it was clear the mech around them noticed the more placid change in his patience as well.

Eventually the long, tedious cycles passed, and their new and growing Cybertron at least functioned off its own basic structure. During one of the conferences, the idea was brought up that there should be some sort of ceremony in order for the anniversary of their united peacemaking. While Megatron was still stubborn and less inclined to celebrate a necessary route that didn’t involve him solely _ winning_, the Prime was more than happy to share if it meant Cybertron’s good faith laid in their combined leadership being fortified even more. As with everything in their new world, Megatron just grumbled and pushed on.

The ceremony wasn’t exceedingly special, more publicity than anything. In front of the seemingly hundreds of camera drones, it took place on a decorated stage, placed upon the connecting lines where Iacon and Kaon met, symbolic in itself. A whole host of mech had their turn to speak on the success of their newly developing society, while Optimus and Megatron stood waiting, posturing for the cameras. Their individual speeches were saved for last.

When the time came, Optimus took his turn before Megatron, yet still ushered him up to stand by his side at the podium. True to his character, the Prime had given a particularly long-winded speech, though nothing that Cybertron likely hadn’t heard before by all his public appearances.

Megatron had unfocused his processor during the address, thinking over his own speech again while the Prime talked on and on. It was a leftover ability from the war, being able to drown out his rival once he started on his virtuous tangents.

“-thus why I believe,” Optimus paused in his talking and turned to Megatron, clasping his hand over a grey shoulder. “-_ we _ believe, that there is no turning back from the advancement we’ve already made toward a peaceful world. Cybertron is a place for every mech, and every mech has a place on Cybertron.”

Megatron didn’t react to the normal gesture, yet his attention returned to the Prime’s address.

But when that hand across his shoulder slid down to grab Megatron’s own, he thought he’d fry a circuit in front of the cameras. 

“We have our faith in the future of our society, our planet, our people, and we ask that you do as well.” Optimus raised their joined hands up, and the crowd roared. While the gesture was likely taken as camaraderie than anything else, Megatron felt the subtle squeeze as he caught the Prime’s beaming optics, knowing he was smiling under the mask again. It took a great deal of strength in that moment to keep his spark from exploding.

* * *

Each city had their own celebrations after the ceremony, and much of the work ceased for just a brief amount of time. And that amount of time was precious, so obviously Optimus had gladly arranged for Megatron to meet him after they’d done their regular appearances at the parties. 

Megatron met him in their office, like normal, but what he didn’t expect was for the Prime to invite him through to another room and onto a well-sized veranda that he wasn’t even aware existed.

The two of them sat on a sturdy bench, and Optimus offered a glass of fine energon, the kind saved for special occasions like this.

“I want to actually thank you-” the Prime began after a long moment of silence as they drank their fuel. The night outside was quiet and peaceful, save for the far off sounds of celebrations. It was almost perfect.

Megatron turned to face him, tilting his helm. “Thanks is not necessary at all, Prime. As long as I get to see a part of my vision for the future of Cybertron, I can work with what I’m offered.” he said calmly, more content with the idea than he was at the start.

“I understand, but what I mean,” Optimus faltered, “I-I mean I’m happy you’re doing it with _ me_…” his unmasked expression bordered on sheepish. 

Never in his functioning had Megatron thought he’d see this flustered side of his once-rival, it was an aspect of his character he didn’t even think existed at all. Not once had he ever noticed the stoic Prime yield to his emotions outside of battle. And yet, Megatron thought, maybe there were things the Prime was not apt to deal with. Thinking about that had him feeling a bit more confident in his social shortcomings.

Optimus took another swig of fuel before continuing. “Like you said, they don’t know about us, outside of the professional space, but…” he caught Megatron’s gaze this time, handsome face graced with a warm smile, and shook his head, chuckling. Details didn’t matter now.

Megatron just returned the smile, unafraid of his emotions in their small solitude. They let the silence take over again, still always finding comfort in it over tension.

After a while, Megatron carefully put down his empty cube, staring off into the clear night. With a surprising lack of hesitation, he was reaching out his arm, capturing the Prime’s lax hand with his own. It wasn’t as odd as he’d imagined, it felt _ right_. Optimus didn’t react but for moulding his fingers tighter into the embrace, rubbing a thumb over the black plating under his. Megatron couldn’t stop himself from smiling even wider, spark lifting, and turned his hand over to link their fingers, squeezing, finally pouring that unconcealed emotion into the warm grasp of his partner.


	2. BW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> self-indulgent Beast Wars shipping, not as much fluff

**BW / calling, teasing**

For as long as the new wars- the Beast Wars, had been going on, Optimus Primal resigned himself to dealing with the fact that the enemy leader was not only sporadically violent, but that the difficulty in dealing with him lay in dealing with his ever-running _ mouth_. 

Primal told himself he did_ not _ get mad, because it wasn’t wholeheartedly irritation that drove him. He was more frustrated at the thought of the Predacon leader seemingly devoting more than enough time to those teasing speeches, those quips and horrendously witty remarks directed at him every time they interacted.

And to top it all off, that terrible, awful, perfect smile that accompanied his overzealous processor.

* * *

There had been an unexpected lull in Predacon attacks, or interrupted Maximal work otherwise. The team had rounded up an ample amount of time to finish a few projects that would no doubt aid them in security against unpleasant forces.

Primal was reading a report from Rattrap, which detailed how he actually worked with Dinobot for once to finish a new kind of security ground drone for around the base. He let the pleasant surprise of their unlikely- and _ unprompted _ teamwork add to his elevated mood. The day was going well, and the knowledge of his team’s best security brains combined with battle tactician was a thought he’d remember to pursue for future projects. Perhaps some additional and positive persuasion would even bring about some mutual peace among the two. 

Primal was in high hopes for work today. And not a word about any Predacons made it just as sweet. Maybe he’d even get to relax this cycle. 

* * *

High hopes were obviously not a concept always easily maintained when having to worry about the threat of some new and ridiculous scheme. 

Apparently Primal was one to easily forget. 

The Maximal leader tried to hold back the sour expression on his face when his computer_ \- personal computer, in his hab suite, _ rang with a secure comm. blip and a familiar logo in the corner. Primal was more frustrated at the thought that he even allowed himself the _ idea _ that he could have one cycle to rest and not think about each and every crazy thing that happened around him since they crash landed on this planet. Drawing himself up toward the screen, he answered the blip with a stabbing servo. 

“Isn’t this a not-so pleasant surprise? Couldn’t even get the bearings to call the deck, huh Megatron?” he disguised his exhaustion with a disapproving look.

That garish purple face held the expression of a mech who knew what he wanted. Primal already felt like ending the call. “Well, well, looks like your crew was right.” Megatron chuckled. 

“Excuse me?”

“Hm, your precious Maximal stooges _ delightfully _informed me that their leader was taking a break and wasn’t to be disturbed by petty summons.” that grin was absolutely venomous. “Isn’t that embarrassing, abandoning your duties? You should have just told me you wanted to give up.” another irritatingly light chuckle.

Primal was on the verge of impulsively unplugging the monitor. “I was hoping I’d be allowed to rest my processor and not have to think about any annoying Predacons trying to destroy the planet, but clearly that’s overzealous wishful thinking.” Primal folded his arms and fixed him with a hard stare, quirking an optic ridge. “What do you want, Megatron?”

Megatron just rubbed his chin in a facade of thoughtfulness. “I just thought I’d call to inform you that my Predacons found a certain little kitty prowling a bit too close to our perimeter. I was willing to let that slide with some negotiations, but it seems like your team isn’t up to task to even discuss it.” he let out a wispy, fake sigh and stretched as if he was the one being tired out from the whole encounter.

Optimus was about to let his processor take its rising irritation out on the console surface when he saw Megatron reclined back, further away from the screen.

Of course- _ of course _ he would be-

“Primus, do you not even have enough respect as a leader to call from a more dignified location?!” Now he was well aware he was just finding things to be irritated about, but Megatron somehow knew how to always get on every last one of his nerves.

And also somehow, somehow he hadn’t ended the call yet.

Megatron shrugged, spreading his arms over the edge of the tub he was sprawled across. “I can still achieve my resolute commanding from comfort, yes, unlike some mech.” he grinned, crossing a clawed pede over the other leg. Primal’s face drew into a hard frown.

“Hm, you _do_ seem stressed, Primal. Maybe you should try this some time,” Megatron said.

Optimus suddenly wondered how the conversation had quickly turned from threatening his troops to the logistics of _ taking baths_. 

“I don’t know what the Predacons do with their resources,” he started, “but we know how to utilize what’s necessary for the better go-” he was cut off by Megatron’s obnoxious snort.

“How _ boring _ your lives must be,” he said, “no wonder you don’t know how to spend your luxury time.” Megatron rubbed his chin in thought again, yet this time his devilish smirk was genuine, teeth and all. “How about I show you how to really relax, yes?”

And with that, Optimus slammed his fist on the control panel with a growl at the darkened screen. He couldn’t tell if his faceplates burned from anger or not.

* * *

Not another word or blip of Predacon activity again after that intermittent call, even Tigatron reported that he’d backed off his patrol route close to their base. Optimus wasn’t sure what exactly this bout of inactivity was due to, but he assumed there was always some inner insurgence or nonsense the Predacons would be dealing with on their own. The Maximal team had their own conflicts, but it always seemed like Predacon command was...less than structured. 

It had still been quiet for the next few cycles after Primal’s _ interrupted _ R&R (which he still never found the time for) until they were alerted by one of Rattrap’s drones that there was erratic movement in the southwest sector of their base’s territory. Except that their scanners didn’t seem to detect a single thing.

“Could be a glitch,” Rhinox offered, tapping away at his console to bring up new coordinate maps.

“Aw no, there’s no way that’s a glitch! This new system is in tip-top shape!” Rattrap protested. Next to him, Dinobot growled in agreement, “The rodent is right, we checked and doubled-checked and synced every sensor to be as sharp as the fiercest warri-!”

“Yes, thank you both, I’m sure it works fine.” Optimus waved a hand, squinting at the screen. “It’s likely something the Predacons are up to…Could be what they’ve been working on all this time.” 

“Yeah but _ where _ is it- whatever it is?” Rattrap asked.

“Not sure- there isn’t anything showing up in the aerial or ground scans.” Rhinox leaned back from his screen. “Could be underground, you know how slippery some of them are. Eight legs and all.”

“Yeah, definitely not good if they’re down there and we got no sensors. I’m the only bot who's allowed to be creepin’ around without a trace.” Rattrap said.

Optimus looked at him thoughtfully. And much to Rattrap’s visual dismay said, “Then maybe that’s exactly what we need.”

* * *

Dragging Rattrap down to the security tunnels underneath the base, Primal quickly figured out that the Predacons had located a cluster of energon crystals. Apparently Tarantulas was tasked in extricating the unstable source while Megatron oversaw the whole job, in case the scientist was up to any new treachery. 

The Maximals found them quickly, which wasn’t too difficult with Megatron’s angry, booming voice echoing down the corridors. A few preemptive attacks and laser blasts later, the unstable walls of the cave shook dangerously and rained rock down around both parties.

Tarantulas and Rattrap had gotten closed off in their own fight, while Megatron and Primal found themselves alone before they could stop the buildup of rocks shutting off the other pathways.

Primal, frustrated and wary, lunged at Megatron with his swords drawn, unexpectedly knocking the Predacon into another wall. He pinned him down with a sword as more debris fell, shaking the energon deposits, threatening to knock them all down and detonate the cave along with the Maximal base.

* * *

“Idiot!” Optimus growled. “This is no use to either of us now!” he tried shifting but the rubble around the energon crystals shook dangerously. Any disturbance and they’d both be offlined.

“Maybe so, Optimus Primal.” Megatron grunted, trying to shift into a position to better suit his precarious footing on the rocks. His pede slipped further down, causing Optimus’ leg to slip, bringing their frames together with a horrible screech.

“However, I think this is much more unfortunate.” Megatron glanced down at their bodies. They were touching hip to chest, yet more innocuously due to the fact that Megatron's regular arm held up the rest of the rocks while Optimus kept himself from slipping further. Their helms remained close, and Optimus glared at the sight of the Predacon’s face up close. 

Megatron caught his discomfort and grinned. “Something else the matter, Maximal?”

“Yeah,” Optimus looked into his optics, gaze burning. “If I had a free hand right now, I’d be punching those obnoxiously straight denta of yours.”

“My, my, we’re on the brink of disaster and you’re still holding on to that frustration? Do Maximals never loosen up?”

“We ah-” Optimus flinched when more rubble loosened. “We _ do _ when there aren’t any Predacons bothering us constantly.” he pushed at the unstable wall, vents puffing at the exertion to keep it from partially collapsing. Megatron was unnaturally still beneath him. 

“I’m surprised you all get anything done. What is it I’ve heard that fire ant call you? _ Queen? _” It was Primal’s turn for a smug grin. “Letting all your lackeys do the work?”

Megatron’s optics flashed as he tried to sputter out a reply, cheek plating heating up the small space.

“Don’t- don’t even say that,” he muttered, mouth turning into a pearly white grimace, though it seemed more like a humiliated pout. Optimus knew he struck a nerve, and stopped himself from chuckling. Megatron fidgeted, trying to find the words.

“I command with an iron fist!” he snarled. “E-everything is within _ my _ plan, because Megatrons do not lower themselves to the petty tasks of their forces, they _ conquer_!” 

Optimus snorted. “Doesn’t seem like you’re getting that far yet, _ Megatron_.” He knew teasing was probably the worst thing to be doing in their situation but when else would he get a chance to and not be attacked?

Megatron pushed his chest out with a growl, inclining his helm closer to Primal’s, his vents brushing the other’s face plates in angry puffs. “You think satirizing my leadership is humorous, Primal?” his tone was deadly and yet Optimus felt no fear, knew it was compensation for his embarrassment. Megatron’s frame against his own was much more heated, and he enjoyed the game they were playing. 

“Well, we’ll see how long you last poking fun at a Predacon outside of this unfortunate predicament, yes.” Megatron said, speaking entirely too close. Primal leaned in, the edges of his mask brushing against Megatron’s chin as he whispered, “Seeing the way _ you _ react, I don’t think it would last long at all.”

Megatron’s blush grew furiously.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/baddigital)


End file.
